


i'll get money, i'll get funny again

by irishmizzy



Category: How I Met Your Mother, The Office (US)
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-26
Updated: 2010-06-26
Packaged: 2017-10-10 07:04:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/96980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irishmizzy/pseuds/irishmizzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It starts the same way it always starts: two guys walk into a bar. (For <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/festschrift/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://community.livejournal.com/festschrift/"><strong>festschrift</strong></a>)</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'll get money, i'll get funny again

It happens in the blink of an eye: one day he's a failing salesman sitting in a windowless, back-corner cubicle and the next he's got his own assistant, an office with a view, and people calling him a prodigy. He grows a beard and hangs out with the other executives and meets girls in VIP rooms and he's his old boss's boss.

Ryan cannot list one single thing about his life that sucks.

Of course, the second he thinks that it all goes to hell.

In the fall he has to deal with Jan's deposition and starting up Dunder Mifflin Infinity and being held accountable for everything Michael says or does and a million other horrible, annoying things.

He goes from loving his life to hating it before he even realizes what's happening. What goes up must come down, right? Now he knows why Jan had a fucking meltdown.

**

"For the three-hundredth time, no. You cannot do that."

Ryan sighs and grinds the heels of his palms into his eye sockets and wills himself not to scream at the telephone. The running list of things in his life that royally suck is miles long and starts with everything about the Scranton branch.

There's a knock at the door and God help Hunter if he asks for one more afternoon off for a fucking gig; if Ryan has to be here, he has to be here.

"Come in," he sighs after he mutes the phone call.

"Howard, we're hitting a new place tonight."

Ryan looks up to see Dan leaning through the doorway.

"Cooper said O'Boyle said the new guy knows a place." He rolls his eyes and huffs a sigh when he says 'new guy.' Ryan pretends not to notice. "We're leaving at six."

"Yeah, okay." Ryan nods; he gets a pair of finger-guns in return. "Douche," he mutters, rolling his eyes. Dan and O'Boyle and Cooper are right after his landlord on the Things That Suck list. It's like Dunder Mifflin is incapable of hiring an employee who is both professionally and socially competent.

With a deep breath he unmutes the phone and Michael's voice comes screaming back over the line, still talking about Jim and Dwight and how a company-produced and acted Thanksgiving pageant is the perfect way to teach Scranton's youth about the importance of turkey and mashed potatoes.

"No, Michael, we're not going to pay for that," he interrupts. "I told you that already. Listen: just send me the reports by the end of the day, okay?" He doesn't wait for a response, just ends the call and leans back in his chair and visualizes all the gin and tonics he's going to be drinking three hours from now.

**

There's too many of them for one cab and somehow Ryan gets shoved into the same one as the new guy. Probably because his friends are all dicks. Ryan had never even seen the new guy before five seconds ago; all he knows is the guy works in legal. And that he's really tall. Like, freakishly tall.

"Marshall Eriksen," he says, offering Ryan his hand. "I work in legal."

"Ryan Howard. VP, Regional Sales."

Marshall looks impressed for a second and then his face lights up. "Wait -- Ryan Howard from Scranton?"

"I used to work in Scranton, yeah." Ryan says warily. Since Michael's diary got released during the deposition he's had to answer a lot of questions about his crazy ex-boss who's a lot in love with him. He's fucking sick of it.

But Marshall doesn't say anything else, just chuckles to himself and readjusts where his knees are digging into the back of the driver's seat.

"So what's this place we're going to?" Ryan asks after a few silent blocks of traffic. They should have taken the subway. Stupid Dan, all, "Stick it to the man! Always expense everything." That's not rebellious; it's called being a cheap bastard.

"It's called MacLaren's," Marshall says. "It's just this bar by my place."

"Oh."

"It's pretty sweet. They have eleven different deep-fried appetizers on the menu."

"Great," Ryan says unenthusiastically. He can already tell this bar is going to be the polar opposite of their usual spots; he gives it twenty minutes before the guys are all ready to leave. He pulls out his BlackBerry and checks his email, the weather, the score of last night's Knicks game. He only looks up when Marshall taps his arm to signal it's time to get out of the cab.

They stand on the sidewalk with their hands jammed into their coat pockets and wait for the rest of the guys to show up.

"They probably got stuck at a light," Ryan says.

"Did you want to wait out here? Or we could go in and grab a table?"

Ryan glances up the street and counts at least fifteen cabs. "Let's just go in."

Marshall grins at him and claps his hands together once before spinning on his heel and leading the way.

Inside it's mildly crowded – nothing like the post-work crush Ryan's used to dealing with. There are tables and booths everywhere and it reminds him a little bit of Poor Richard's. Yeah, there's no way the guys are going to stick around for more than one drink.

Marshall must recognize someone or something, because of all of a sudden his arm shoots up in the air and Ryan worries for a second that he's going to slam his knuckles into ceiling. He doesn't – it's not even close – but that doesn't stop Ryan from flinching; it's like hanging out with Halpert's ganglier older brother. Marshall leads him across the room and stops next to a table that's already got a couple sitting at it.

"Hey guys, this is Ryan, from work. The rest of the guys are on their way." Marshall says. He leans down to kiss the girl sitting there. "Ryan, this is my wife, Lily, and our roommate, Ted."

"Hey," Ryan says. He shakes Lily's hand and nods at Ted. "Nice to meet you."

Marshall starts to say something just as Ryan's BlackBerry vibrates. "It's Cooper," he says and excuses himself to take the call. He ends up standing next to the door, one hand pressed against his free ear so he can hear what Cooper's shouting at him.

"You're shitting me," Ryan says.

"Hell no. Did you see that place? It looks pathetic. We can't go there."

"Yeah, I saw it. I'm already inside."

"Then you know," Cooper says.

"What am I supposed to tell the new guy?"

"I don't know, tell him we got lost or sick or something. You figure it out. And then come meet us at that place by O'Boyle's."

"Fuck you," Ryan says.

Cooper laughs. "See you, Howard."

Ryan sighs and makes his way back to the table. Marshall's ordered a pitcher of beer and five glasses and sometimes Ryan really hates the people he works with.

"Did they get lost?" Marshall asks when Ryan sits down. He passes Ryan a full pint.

"He said something came up – he was kind of breaking up, I couldn't really understand him, but, uh, I guess they're not gonna make it."

"Oh." Marshall looks genuinely sad.

"It's okay, baby," his wife says, rubbing his arm. "Next time. And hey, at least Ryan's here." She grins at Ryan and he can't help but smile back. She's tiny and smiley and has this haircut that reminds him a little bit of how Kelly's hair used to be.

"So you're Ryan Howard," she says. He nods. "We've heard a lot about you."

"Oh yeah?" He takes a sip of his beer and then another. Current plan of action: finish this drink and then bolt.

"We could probably write a book," Ted says. He grins across the table at Marshall and Lily.

"You know," Lily says, "I've seen pictures of Jan and I agree – you are just as hot."

"But in a different way," they all say together.

"You're hilarious."

Lily reaches across the table and pats his arm sympathetically. "Maybe Marshall brought home the diary and read the best parts out loud. But don't worry – we won't hate you because you're beautiful."

Ryan blushes and knows his laugh sounds painfully forced.

"Don't worry, man," Ted says. "We have all dealt with crazy bosses."

"Ted actually let his move in with us once," says Marshall.

"Hey, I was _his_ boss then."

"Oh, right, sorry." Marshall rolls his eyes at Ryan.

"I felt bad for him," Ted turns to explain to Ryan. "He was living in the office!"

"We had a guy like that back in Scranton. I'm pretty sure he was growing things in his desk drawers."

**

He ends up staying for more than just the one beer. They're starting on their second pitcher when two more people wander up to their table. The girl squeezes in next to Marshall while the guy grabs a stray chair.

"Where were you guys?" Marshall asks.

"Please," the guy shrugs. He leans across the table and snags the last mozzarella stick, which he uses to point at Ryan. "Who's the new guy?"

"This is Ryan. We work together."

"No way," the guy and girl both say. Ryan thinks it's creepy when people say the exact same thing at the exact same time.

"Way," Marshall and Ted say. Ryan stares at them, the kind of blank, disturbed look he'd give the cameras if they were still following him everywhere. He's really glad they're not, but once you train yourself to give the perfect reaction shot, it's kind of hard to unlearn it.

"I'm Robin and this is Barney," the girl says, shaking Ryan's hand. "Did you really almost burn down your old office?"

"Oh my God, is there anyone you didn't read that diary to?" Ryan asks. Marshall smiles and pours him another beer.

"Don't worry about it," Ted says. "One time, Robin fell in a pile of horse poop on live television."

"It's true," Barney says, chuckling around a mouthful of fried cheese. "Nice suit, by the way."

Robin flushes scarlet when everyone laughs at her. When Ryan catches her eye she smiles at him over the edge of her wineglass.

**

He spends all day Saturday sacked out on his couch half-watching the Villanova-Georgetown basketball game and mostly concentrating on not dying.

At some point he gets one text each from Cooper and Dan and O'Boyle – they all want to know the same thing. Ryan ignores them and figures he has all weekend to make up a lie about going home with some girl.

He gets a text from Lily, too, and while he's typing his response he wonders if it's weird that he's talking to his coworker's wife. He sends it anyway.

**

O'Boyle stops him in the hallway Monday morning before Ryan's even gotten a chance to take his coat off. He lies through his teeth about hooking up with a girl from NYU Law and then barks at Hunter to find him a cup of coffee.

"And I want it five minutes ago," he says, glaring until Hunter drops whatever he's doing and leaves.

He's on the phone with the Scranton accountants when Hunter gets back with his drink. Oscar's the only one talking about work – Angela's huffing about inappropriate public displays of affection in the workplace and Kevin keeps giggling and after an hour of trying to figure out what the hell Michael wrongly expensed this month, Ryan gives up.

"You know what, Oscar? Just try and figure it out yourselves and send me an email by the end of the day."

"But –"

"By five," Ryan says, and then he hangs up. He tells Hunter to arrange a car for tomorrow so he can drive to Scranton. Yeah, he's pretty sure that's going to suck.

He's putting together a list of things he's going to need Michael to do before the end of the quarter when Cooper stops by.

"Sorry 'bout Friday, Howard," he says.

_You're an asshole_, Ryan thinks, but he says, "It all worked out."

"Yeah, I heard." Cooper sits on the edge of Ryan's desk and leers at Ryan and waits for the rest of the story. Ryan ignores him and after four minutes of silence, Cooper gets the hint.

"Jesus, Howard, don't be so goddamn sensitive," he says, right before he walks out the door.

**

It sleets the entire time he's in Scranton, which makes the drive take that much longer and his headache that much worse. He hates going back to there, where he can't mute Michael and he gets sucked into hour-long interviews with the documentary crew and Dwight is just… Dwight.

Going back to Scranton makes him want to drink. Heavily.

**

Marshall comes by Ryan's office the next morning; he needs Ryan's signature on some of Jan's deposition statements.

"I stopped by yesterday but Hunter said you were out."

"I had to go to Scranton," Ryan says.

Marshall makes a face.

"Exactly," Ryan says, sighing.

"Well, if you want to get a drink or lunch or something, let me know."

"Yeah, I'll call you sometime," Ryan says. He signs the forms and Marshall leaves.

**

"So then I'm like, 'Oh really, which one?' and she's all, '_Maxim_.' Can you believe that shit?"

Ryan drinks his Red Bull and vodka and laughs when everyone else does. He doesn't say, "Cooper, you're a fucking liar," but he thinks it.

**

He's back in Scranton the same time next week, and the week after that. This is his life now, driving a hundred miles through Pennsylvania to baby-sit Michael and avoid Kelly and clench his fists so he doesn't accidentally put one through the wall.

And on top of that, going out with O'Boyle and everyone has turned into just another pain in his ass, which is weird because he never used to mind. It's like he just woke up one morning and realized he'd reached his douchebag saturation point.

He tells Marshall that while they're at lunch one day, says, "If I have to listen to Cooper tell one more story about sleeping with a supermodel, I swear to God I will punch him in the throat."

Marshall stares at him. "You have a whole lot a rage for such a small person. I mean, wow. It's impressive."

"Shut up," Ryan manages, right before he cracks up laughing.

Marshall convinces him to skip out on his usual happy hour and go to MacLaren's instead. Ryan doesn't think about punching anyone the entire time he's there. It's almost relaxing.

**

Marshall calls one Sunday morning just as Ryan's rummaging around his kitchen for something resembling a breakfast food and contemplating going to the gym.

"Lily wants to know if you want to go to brunch with us this morning," he says.

"Oh, uh – I was just headed to the gym."

"Yeah, okay, you're coming to brunch."

"With you and your wife? No. And besides, isn't brunch, like, a couples thing? "

"No, brunch is an awesome thing," Marshall says. "But if it bothers you, you and Robin can sit together. Ted's bringing his girlfriend and Barney doesn't do brunch so really, you'd be doing her a favor."

Ryan stares at the three-month old box of Fruity Pebbles he found in one of his cabinets.

"Don't deny Robin brunch, man. That's just cruel."

"Fine." He sighs and puts the cereal away. French toast sounds really good right now, anyway.

**

He's started avoiding his old friends, which makes being anywhere in the building that isn't "in his office with the door closed" a little difficult. Dan catches him in the elevator one Thursday and follows him all the way into his office.

"Where the hell have you been, man?"

Ryan shrugs. "Around."

Dan gives him this look, like he's torn between calling Ryan on his bullshit and believing work has just been that busy lately. He shakes his head and his face clears.

"Well, whatever. This weekend we're going out on O'Boyle's cousin's yacht. Attendance is mandatory."

"It's January."

"Pretty sweet, huh?"

"No," Ryan says.

Dan doesn't really know what to say to that; he's standing there silently when Marshall flings open the door.

"One," he says, slightly out of breath, "The Starbucks across the street is giving away free espresso shots. We have to go down there like right now. Oh, hey, Dan."

Dan manages a wave and a silent "hey."

"Two," Marshall says, "I need you to sign these. And three… Oh, crap, what was three?"

"Howard, call me about this weekend," Dan says, shooting the goddamn finger-guns at Ryan before he steps around Marshall and leaves.

"Oh, three!" Marshall snaps his fingers and points at Ryan. "Did you know your assistant wears make-up? Does he have a little Johnny Depp thing going on or something?"

"What? Hunter? No. He's in a band."

"Oh. Huh. So it's a Pete Wentz thing? Well, that's cool." He leans out the door and says the last part directly to Hunter.

"They kind of suck."

"Hey!" Hunter says from his desk. Ryan shrugs and when Marshall laughs he knows Hunter's flipping him off. And just for that he can stay until six on Friday.

"So," Ryan says, "Starbucks?"

"Yes! Let's go." They make it five feet before Marshall stops and holds up the folders he's carrying. "And I forgot about these."

"Here." Ryan takes the folders and drops them on Hunter's desk with a fake smile. "I'm going to need to sign these when I get back. Remind me."

Hunter does not smile back.

"What'd Dan want?" Marshall asks as they head for the elevator.

"They're throwing a party on a yacht this weekend."

"In January? On the Hudson?" He's incredulous. "Why would anyone do that?"

"I have no idea."

**

Ryan values things like warmth and beer and not having to listen to a three hour discussion about cage-free pheasants and the price of organic tomatoes, so he goes to MacLaren's instead of the yacht party.

"Guys, what the hell?" Barney says when he walks up to their booth. "I thought I told you to suit up."

"You did and we ignored you," Ted says.

"Howard, I expected more from you." Barney shakes his head.

"Sorry. Maybe next time."

"I'm holding you to that," he says, pointing a finger at Ryan. "Okay, Scherbatsky, chugalug, we've got places to be."

"Hey, why does she get to go?" Lily asks while Robin hurries to finish her scotch.

"_She_ suited up."

She did, and she looks fucking hot. Ryan hasn't been able to stop staring at her all night. Lily rolls her eyes and makes a face at Barney and he makes one back.

"Next time, Lil," Barney says, raising his eyebrows suggestively and blowing her a kiss.

"Okay, let's go," Robin says, hopping up from the table and tugging on Barney's arm.

"You missed your chance, Howard!" Barney calls over his shoulder. "You're gonna regret this!"

"You won't regret it," Ted says. Ryan laughs. Lily switches seats so she and Ryan are sharing a bench and everyone has more room in general.

"Question," she says. "How long have you had this beard?"

"I don't know, since I moved here." Ryan scratches his cheek. "So, since the summer."

"Ted had a beard like that once."

"Please, my beard was totally better than that."

"It was, dude," Marshall says.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"It was his break-up beard," Lily says. "Did you break up with someone? Do you need to talk about it?" Her voice is filled with mock sympathy. It reminds him of the voice Pam uses when Michael's being particularly trying.

"Shut up," Ryan says. "Everyone in the office had one, it felt like the thing to do."

"How come you never grew a work beard?" Ted asks Marshall.

"Please, Marshall with a beard?" Lily laughs. "That would just be ridiculous."

"I'll have you know I would look quite handsome with a beard," Marshall says.

"Like Ted did?"

"Hey!" Ted tosses his napkin into the air, "Foul! This is not about me. This is about Ryan's ridiculous beard."

"My beard is not ridiculous," Ryan says.

"Yeah, man, it is. It's pretty ridiculous," Marshall says. Lily nods and pats Ryan's arm.

He rubs his palm over his chin and drinks his beer and listens to them argue whose break-up coping mechanisms were worse: Ted's beard or Marshall's refusal to wear pants. The debate is frighteningly detailed and gets out of hand when Marshall starts yelling, "Ted, you ignorant slut."

Lily convinces them to let Ryan be the impartial judge; he's unnecessarily harsh when he says they're equally pathetic. Lily glares at him and tells him not to be an asshole and makes him apologize by buying the next round.

When he gets home he thinks about shaving. He goes to bed instead.

**

Barney drags him to some laser tag place one weekend. Ryan hasn't played since he was, like, fourteen and he's convinced it'll be incredibly lame, but it's actually a lot of fun.

"Never doubt me," Barney says. He's dead serious, and that amuses Ryan to no end. Barney's the one who does outrageous things and everyone plays along because nine times out of ten it's easier than protesting. That's exactly how he and Ted and Robin ended up drunk at the Westminster Dog Show, and they'll all admit it was one of the better ways to kill a Tuesday afternoon.

A lot of people probably find Barney obnoxious, but honestly, Ryan likes Barney best. He can't really explain it, he just does.

It's kind of like how he _should_ think MacLaren's is stupid, but the more he hangs out there, the more Ryan thinks scientific studies would prove that happy hour at MacLaren's is infinitely greater than happy hour at any other bar.

"It's true," Barney says when Ryan shares his theory. "This place was built on a foundation of concrete and awesome."

Ryan nods. "I think I love this place."

"Join the club," Ted says.

**

Work doesn't get any easier, but he gets depressingly good at tuning Michael out. That and Lily gives him some tricks she uses to wrangle her kindergarteners and it's suddenly a lot easier to keep Michael on task.

The key is a combination of patience, giving gold stars for good behavior (literally – he has Hunter put stickers on copies of Scranton's sales reports and then mail them to Scranton), and talking to Michael like he's five.

It works so well Ryan could kiss Lily. He buys her a pair of shoes instead.

**

"So then we put all these mice into a cardboard box and we were going to have it delivered to his office the next morning but they ate their way out of the box before we mailed it."

They're just sitting around Marshall and Lily and Ted's apartment, drinking and listening to Marshall and Barney tell them about this prank war they had with some guy. They'd originally planned on going out, but it's snowing now and Ryan's pretty sure they're not leaving any time soon. Lily's wearing sweatpants and Robin's got a blanket around her shoulders and he took off his shoes and tie two hours ago.

"There was this guy I worked with in Scranton," Ryan says. "He did shit like that all the time."

"Accidentally let animals loose in your building?" Robin wrinkles her nose.

"No. But he would, like, move someone's desk into the bathroom or across the room or somewhere. And he put a lot of people's office supplies in Jell-O."

"Jell-O!" Barney's eyes light up.

"You have worked with some winners," Robin says.

"Tell me about it. Jim wasn't even that bad – you should see some of the idiots I work with now." He tells them about the yacht and the incessant finger-guns and how Cooper manages to work "this one time I dated a Playmate," into every conversation.

"They sound great," Robin says.

"Yeah, seriously," says Lily. "Why did you even hang out with them?"

Ryan shrugs and picks at the label on his beer bottle. "I don't know. They were awesome at first."

"Hmm, alright, but back to the things in Jell-O," Barney says. "This guy sounds awesome. Tell me more."

So Ryan tells them about the time Jim had all Dwight's things put in the vending machine. And a few beers later he tells them about Roy and Pam and how Jim was so in love with her he moved to Stamford and back again, about Jim walking out of his job interview at Corporate and driving all the way back to Scranton just so he could ask Pam out on a date. When he's finished the room is silent, until:

"What a pansy," Robin says.

"Seriously." Barney leans across the coffee table to clink his bottle against hers.

"Well I thought it was a very nice story," Marshall says.

"So did I," says Ted, clapping him on the shoulder. They both look a little misty-eyed.

Lily looks back and forth between them. "God, you two are such women," she says, and Ryan laughs because it's true.

**

It's been almost two months since he's seen any of his old friends outside of work, and he wouldn't even be here tonight if it weren't Dan's birthday. They're at this place in SoHo that's apparently kind of a big deal or something – at least that's what the blonde girl he met at the bar said before she bounced off to request a song.

"They didn't have it," she says, her frown exaggerated as she sinks into the empty seat next to Ryan. From the other side of the table, Dan winks and shoots his stupid finger-guns. "But he said if I put it on a tape and bring it in next time, he'll definitely play it."

"Cool," Ryan says, paying more attention to the flashing lights than to what she's saying. "Wait – a tape?"

"Yeah."

He laughs. "Like, a 1998-mix-tape tape?"

"Yeah," she says again. She's staring at him like it's not hilarious, like they didn't pay thirty dollars to get in the door so they could buy sixteen dollar cocktails and listen to mix tapes like it's high school redux. It makes him laugh even harder. He is nowhere near drunk enough for this.

"Yeah," he says, "I gotta go." He wishes Dan a happy birthday and walks out the door without finishing his drink.

He checks his phone while he waits for a cab. There's a call from Marshall that he missed three hours ago. He calls back anyway.

"Hey man, how's the place?" Marshall asks. Ryan can hear people chanting chug, chug, chug in the background as he climbs into the car and gives the driver the address.

"Gay," Ryan says.

Marshall laughs. "Well, we're at MacLaren's and Ted's gonna get drunk -- it's pretty awesome."

"Awesome!" someone – Ted, he assumes – yells into the phone, loud enough to temporarily deafen Ryan. He switches the phone to his other ear and laughs.

"See?" Marshall says. "You should definitely come by."

"Yeah, okay," Ryan says. "I'm on my way."

**

"Oh my God, I love drunk Ted!" Ryan says.

Lily laughs and Marshall nods and Ted shouts, "I love you, New York!" from his perch on one of the barstools. He sways and, without looking, Barney grabs a fistful of shirt and tugs him upright. Robin laughs and leans around Barney to smooth Ted's collar.

"Ryan!" Ted leaps off the stool and runs at a drunken tilt to their table. "Ryan," he says again, throwing an arm around Ryan's shoulders, "Did I ever tell you I licked the Liberty Bell?"

"You did, several times. Did I ever tell you about the time I licked the Lincoln Memorial?"

"You did?" Ted leans away, comically wide-eyed. He leans too far and Ryan has to grab the front of his shirt to keep him in his seat.

"No."

"Oh." Ted frowns. He brings his face close to Ryan's and says, "You should. I bet it would taste like emanci – eman – like not slavery. And rocks."

Everyone laughs and Ted smiles even though he has no clue what's going on. He pops out of his seat and wanders towards the jukebox and Barney slides into the empty chair. Robin stands next to him, her hip resting lightly against his shoulder.

"I didn't think you were going to be here tonight," Barney says.

"Oh man, get this," Ryan says. "This girl I was talking to requested a song –"

"Wait a minute – you were at a club, talking to a hot girl, and you left to come here?" Barney's incredulous. "Don't talk to me for the rest of the night."

"No, wait," Ryan says.

"I said don't talk to me!" Barney shouts. He does a one-eighty, turning his body completely away from Ryan, and crosses his arms. Everyone else at the table rolls their eyes.

"So she requested a song," Robin prompts.

"Right, she requests a song and the dj tells her they don't have it, but if she puts it on a mix tape he'll play it next time."  
`  
"Seriously?" Marshall asks.

"Like I could make that shit up."

"Was this club in Canada?" Barney asks, still facing away from him. Ryan stares at his back blankly.

"Because it's still 1998 there. What up?" He turns holds out his hand for a high five. Robin smacks his shoulder but even she's laughing a little. Ryan high fives Barney.

"That's what I said, but no one else thought it was weird."

"Oh, it's weird," Lily says. She pours him another beer. Some classic rock song Ryan half-recognizes blares over the speakers; the entire bar perks up in recognition. Ted raises his arms above his head and cheers.

"Ryan," he yells, "Ryan, come dance with me!"

"Never," Ryan yells back, shaking his head. Everyone in the bar is laughing.

**

He wakes up when someone shoves his feet onto the floor.

"My apartment, my couch," Lily says when he glares at her.

"Not for much longer." He buries his face into the cushions and tries not to move. Past experiences have taught him that not moving is the most successful way to deal with his hangover.

"Two more weeks," she says. He can see practically all her teeth when she smiles at him. He hates her for being so happy. He hates the lights for being so fucking bright.

"Pancakes in fifteen minutes," Lily says, patting his calf. She pushes herself off the couch and into the kitchen where Marshall's already banging around, getting out bowls and pans. The front door swings open as Barney and Robin let themselves in. Ryan really needs to ask someone what the hell is going on with those two later – after pancakes, when his head isn't pounding so hard.

"Pancakes," Robin sing-songs. Barney echoes her at ten times the volume and Ryan glares at him. Ted's bedroom door swings open.

"I hate you." It's practically a growl.

"Ted!" Barney and Robin cheer at the same time.

"Morning, Ted," Lily and Marshall call from the kitchen.

"I hate them all," Ted says to Ryan as he shuffles toward the couch.

"Join the club," Ryan says. They bump fists. Robin squishes into the space between them and steals Ryan's blanket. Barney flicks on the TV and gets abnormally excited about an _Iron Chef_ marathon. In the kitchen Marshall sings a song about making pancakes on Sunday.

It's pretty fucking awesome.


End file.
